He had seen plenty of pretty girls before.
Girls who had unblemished, golden skin,
hair that flowed like uneasy sea waters,
plush lips that spoke soothing words.
Girls who wore mini skirts,
jeans that hug their thighs.
They did not have to try to look desirable.
Yet they fancied their hair, painted their faces,
hid their insecurities.
All to impress the eyes who watch them.
But this girl, she was different.
This girl was beautiful.
He noticed every meticulous thing about her.
Studied her like a piece of art in a museum.
The freckles under her eyes like stars.
The dimple above her right side smile.
And her mind. Her mind was expansive.
Thoughts swirled around her like a hurricane.
She was herself, free willed, self-reliant,
Firm in her own convictions.
Her beauty was deeper than the skin,
More than a physical attraction
It was her subtle confidence, her knowledge,
and the mystery about her.
To him, she was beautiful.